Because I'm not. I saw this coming from a mile away. If anything, it's long overdue. With that wonky eye and those speedy magician's hands, this guy was born to pick up hookers in South Beach. I imagine the exchange went something like this:
Hooker: One night. $2000.
ShamWow Guy: I have $1000, an embroidered polo and three ShamWows soaked with gin and bodily fluids.
SG: I'll meet you at the La Quinta. Room 342.
H: Bring your tongue. I'm hungry.
H: I mean, bring your ShamWow. I plan on spilling a lot of wine/coffee/cola/pet stains on the carpet.
(20 minutes later)
H: Let's kiss.
SG: Ow my tongue. (Punch)
The Germans may make great towels, but only Miami produces tongue-hungry hookers. Sorry, ShamWow guy, but you've officially fulfilled your destiny. It's all meth binges and SlapChop royalties from here on out.